A Simple Life: Chapter 221

It took a few attempts to get into the safe as I’d only watched Winona enter the combination code once before and I was fuzzy on the last digit but on the third try the lock beeps and I hear the click of the bolt releasing. With my mouth dry and my palms clammy I pull the steel door open. I barely look at the selection of long guns lined up along the back of the safe. My eyes were on the interior of the door where the brilliant chrome snub-nosed revolver sat in its holster. Had this happened after hours the handgun wouldn’t have been here as Amos kept those in his house in town. But since it had happened during the day the pistol that he sometimes carried had been stored here for safe keeping while he worked.

I peel back the Velcro strap that held the gun firmly in its holder then pull the weapon free. It was so big and heavy! Way heavier than I imagined it would be. In Amos’ hands the thing looked like a toy, in mine it seemed cartoonishly oversized. I’d only ever held a firearm once before when my Dad had forced me to hold a rifle during a ‘father and sons’ day out at the shooting range. Once the shooting actually started I ran away in fear, or tried anyhow before I was caught, given a licking and made to sit alone and crying in the car while the others carried on.

Turning the weapon this way and that I study it, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. From what I could see it was as simple as point and squeeze. I run my thumb down the cold barrel where ‘Python .357’ was engraved. I hated this thing. It was one of the ugliest things I’d ever seen. Just holding it made me feel dirty and ashamed. But right now I needed something terrible to face something terrible. This would force Jack to take me seriously. I knew I couldn’t argue with him, I knew I couldn’t fight him, and I knew that the law wouldn’t be there for me or Lauren. Playing fair I was no match for my brother and so…I needed an ace up my sleeve.

I stuff the gun into the interior pocket of my jacket then zip it up again. The safe is closed, the shop locked up, and the next thing I knew I was on my bike ripping down the highway for town.

***

Hidden far away from the tacky tourist spots, the techno-eco-utopian Tits, and the gleaming university in the shadow of the towering stack of the derelict coal-fired power station sat a two-story brick building that once acted as the offices for the plant. Above the doors in blocky industrial font are three black and red Rs which stood for ‘Racks and Racks and Racks’. In its early days it had tried to pass itself off as a trendy place to come and enjoy eight-ball, barbecue ribs, and busty servers, but that was a long time ago. Though it was still technically a billiards hall it’s true niche was that of the island’s roughest dive bar.

As I coast onto the cracked asphalt of the parking lot I am equally relieved and scared by the sight of Jack’s truck among the parked vehicles and the absence of Winona’s. The pistol at my side weighs heavy but gives me courage. I roll up to park directly beside Jack’s truck. The world goes quiet as I turn off my bike. Right now…quiet was bad. Silence blunted my momentum and gave a chance for my fears to get the better of me.

Bvrrrrt!

A vibration from my phone draws me away from the sober thoughts that threatened to erode my will. I pull off my helmet and answer.

“Hello?”

“Avery!” Blares the voice of the always too loud Riley.

“R-Riley?”

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” She says, her words taut with nervous tension. “Cain came home and got changed then shot right back out again with Winona and her dad. He had a bad look on his face, Avery. Kayla and Briar are looking for you. And nobody’s telling me nothing!”

“K-Kayla’s looking for me?”

“Yeah. You ran away from Winnie’s mom or something. Someone’s hurt or something. Winnie told Kayla to find you. They thought you might have run somewhere. I’m so confused! Are you okay?”

“I’m…s-sorry.” I say softly. “I’m s-sorry you all had to g-get involved.”

“Sorry? Avery, what’s happening?” She pleads.

“I c-can’t talk right now, Riley.” I say, my tone flat. “I have to talk to my brother.”

“You’re going to talk to your brother? Jack? The one that hit you? Is that what this is all about?”

“Yeah, R-Riley. It is.” I sigh. “I’m d-down at the Triple R. I’m going in to t-t-talk to Jack now. He’s not g-gonna hurt nobody no more.”

“The Triple R? Alone!?” She says. “Avery…!”

I hang up the call. Looking down at my phone I see that I had missed a flurry of texts, most of them from Kayla. I slip the phone back into my pocket. I take a breath and look East to the green mountains. How I wished I could just run away, maybe find some pretty blossoms or wild strawberries, but this time that wasn’t an option. The next thing I knew I was moving again. With slow but purposeful steps I pass by the rusty cars and dusty trucks and even a line of bulky black cruising bikes as I approach the front doors of the building. It seems between the bikers, the under employed ne’er-do-wells of the island, and the drunks here for the hair of the dog this place had no shortage of business this time of day.

I step through the door into the dim and dingy interior. Right away I am greeted by a burly guy in a vest who takes one look at me and says. “You got I.D. kid?”

I produce my license and show the man as I peer through into the main room of the establishment. Details slowly reveal themselves as my eyes adapt to the gloom. The area was massive, taking up about two-thirds of the whole building, with about a dozen pool tables in the center and everything else around the edge. Across from the entrance was a long bar with a variety of fluorescent beer logos lining the wall behind it. I could see at least five people, none of them Jack, and hear at least that many more talking and shooting pool. Over the speakers came the baritone voice of Winona’s favorite man in black. Hearing Johnny’s deep notes brings to mind the poster on our wall and that angry look of defiance. Fuck the haters. Fuck the bullies!

“Beckett?” The door man says. “Ey, you know Jacko?”

I nod.

“Waiiit a second. Avie? Little Avie Beckett? Ha!” He slaps my shoulder and hands me back my I.D. “Never thought I’d see you down here. The fruit bar not open yet?”

I grit my teeth and ignore the comment.

“Ah! I’m must fuckin with ya, Avie. How’s that crazy old grandpa of yours?”

“G-Good.” I say curtly. “May I c-come in or not?”

“Be my guest.” He waves me through. “You can leave your helmet here.”

“I’m good.” I grip it tightly and walk right on by.

The moment I step through into the cavernous main room I spot my brother…half-brother…sitting with three other guys in a corner booth. He sat there laughing and swapping stories like nothing at all had happened. I could still feel Lauren sobbing in my arms, I could still feel his wife’s tears on my shoulder, and this bastard is here laughing!?

“Jack Beckett!” I call from across the room, drawing every eye in the house my way. It was at exactly this moment that I realized…I didn’t have a damn clue what I was actually going to do! Just like all those times when I fled from my problems there’d been no plan guiding me, only emotion. Up until this moment I just knew that I had to do something. Something was now upon me. Jack squints my way looking as confused as the rest of them. I could see the exact moment that he recognizes me as general confusion turns to bemusement then swiftly to steely-eyed anger. I match it with a rage of my own. I pull the zipper of my jacket down about half way then say in a loud, clear voice. “I’m here ab-bout your w-w-wife you son of a bitch!”

Chapter 222